The Mighty Apollo
by Slytheringirle
Summary: He didn't know when exactly he fell for his friend but somewhere along the line he has realized it and no matter how many times he tried to deny it, the feeling was still there; the blood rushing to his ears whenever he laid eyes upon him and the drum- like beat of his heart echoing through his ears. Grantaire is in love with Enjolras, but what happens when he makes a move?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I DONT OWN LES MISERABLES!

Grantaire was the first to arrive to tonight's meeting, or so he thought until he saw Enjolras leaning against the wall, gazing out the window and into the street.

He didn't know when exactly he fell for his _friend_ but somewhere along the line he has realized it and no matter how many times he tried to deny it, the feeling was still there; the blood rushing to his ears whenever he laid eyes upon him and the drum- like beat of his heart echoing through his ears.

So he has learned to live with it, along with the fact that Enjolras, who only looked at him with hate and loathing, will never return his feelings.

"May I ask what is troubling the mighty Apollo?" He teased as usual, it was the only way to get this angelic creature to notice him.

But Enjolras ignored the question. "Lost your bottle tonight? Or did it get smashed by your people?"

By _your people_ Enjolras meant the alcoholics who ran around town pickpocketing, and no matter how often he said it, and no matter how true he knew it was, it still stung.

But Apollo, oblivious to the hurt written all over his face, continued, "Why do you even bother coming to these meetings? You don't believe in the cause and you only scorn my speeches. Are you that lonely?"

 _Or maybe he enjoyed the hurt, enjoyed seeing him writher in pain._

Grantaire's hand ached for the bottle of wine that wasn't there, and he knew that he's going to have to do without it for the night. "You say I'm incapable of love, Enjolras, but I've never seen you look at a girl twice, or talk about love. You're always talking about France and the revolution. How about you get a life?"

He regretted it the moment the words came out of his mouth and wished he could take the back. "Shut up Grantaire. At least I don't spend my life wallowing in my sorrows and drinking my days away."

They were facing each other now, faces inches apart and Grantaire couldn't stand it any longer, he grabbed Apollo's face and kissed him, hard.

He felt Enjolras stiffen and for a moment he thought that he was going to kiss him back, but a second later he pushed him away violently, eyes seething with anger and disgust.

"OUT! GET OUT OF HERE AND I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN! EVER!"

Tears gathering up in his eyes, Grantaire grabbed his coat and ran downstairs and into the chilly night.

He ran as fast as he could, not knowing where to go but wanting to put as much distance as possible between him and Enjolras.

 _Oh God, what was he thinking?_ He knew, he knew that this was going to happen, that there is no way Enjolras would return his feelings, but it still hurt.

Finally, when his legs could carry him no more, he came to a halt in front of an inn. _Perfect._

"Monsieur, that's your third fifth drink in less than hour. I'm sorry but I can't let you drink more," A hand grabbed the bottle from his clasp.

He turned his head to see a familiar looking girl with long brown hair, who looked to be around seventeen, sitting beside him. But try as he might, he couldn't remember who she was.

"And who do you think you are, young lady, to tell me what to do?"

"I'm Eponine," She answered, chin raised up with that pride of hers, "and I know none of your friends would want you to drink _that_ heavily." She looked at him hardly.

 _Marius's friend._ He snorted at the word _friend_ , this girl's was love in with Marius as much as he was with Enjolras. And they were both as oblivious.

"Tell me, Mademoiselle, how do you deal with Marius's oblivion?" At that, her expression softened.

"I know he'll never love me back, I know I'm nothing more than a friend for him. But being in his life, knowing that he's okay, that he's happy, is enough." A small smile was playing on her face and she seemed to be in another world.

"Guess I should've been content with the backseat," he muttered as he stood up and made his way to the door, the bottle clutched in his hand.

Eponine ran after him. "Why are you asking?"

He thought about telling her, thought about opening up and having someone to lean on, thought about taking off the mask, and thought better of it.

He shrugged ,"Just curious."

They walked in silence for a while before Eponine chuckled softly and turned to him. "It's Enjolras, isn't it?"

 _Looks like she was waiting for me to open up, but it's not gonna be that easy._

He returned her look with what he hoped would pass for confusion. "What do you mean?"

She smirked. "You're in love with Enjolras."

There it was. Six words. And yet they held so much truth and meaning, it hurt.

This time he took off the mask.

"That obvious, huh?" He made his way to the river, leaning against the cool stone fence.

"No, I'm just good at figuring things out."

They stood there for a while, just looking at the ships passing by, each lost his own thoughts, before Eponine spoke. "Marius is in love with Cosette, but Enjolras doesn't have eyes for anyone, why don't you talk him? Or make a move?"

The words hit him hard and brought up memories of earlier, _when he made a move_. Appearently, even the strongest wine couldn't drown out his Apollo.

"Enjolras has eyes for no one but France." He replied bitterly.

"You never know until you make a move."

That was the last string. He couldn't hold up any longer and he broke down, tears of rage and heartbreak making their way down his face like a storm.

His legs gave up and he fell down on the pavement, heart retching sobs escaping him. Eponine crouched down beside him and held him, cradling him like a baby, but at that moment he didn't care, he was glad that he finally had a shoulder to cry on.

After a couple of minutes he finally gathered himself and stood up, the tears replaced by embarrassment. _He broke down in front of a girl._

"I'm sorry for bothering you, Mademoiselle. It's getting late, we should probably head home."

He could swear that he _heard_ smile, "I think we're past the formalities, _Monsieur_. And you don't have to retreat into the closet, hide behind the mask, I'm not going to judge you and you know it. Plus, I have a feeling you haven't told me everything."

 _I knew I was going to regret this._

He had told her everything when he was bawling his eyes out like a toddler, told her about how one day he just fell for him, about how Enjolras treated him, about how he drank to ease his pain, even though it never seemed to work. But he didn't tell her about tonight.

And yet, he didn't mind her asking. He had always hoped that he'd have someone to open to, someone who didn't judge him and he wasn't going to push that person away when they finally came.

And so he told her.

At first there was silence, but then, "I'm sure he was just shocked, he probably didn't meant it. Give him a day or two and I'm sure he'll reach out to you," she said gently, confidently.

 _How could Marius not return her feelings? This girl was an angel, but just his type. No, he fell for Gods, for Apollo._

Oh, how he wished that was true.

xoxoxoxoxox

A/N: This was intended to be a one shot, but it got too long, so I'm gonna make it a two chapter story, maybe three. And also, thats my first Les Mis fanfic, so be gentle!

I promise to update daily if shis chapter gets a correspondence!

Though I guess I'll update anyways just cuz I like writing it. :)


	2. Boring?

**Hi everyone! So I noticed that this fic had gotten 22 views, but oddly, no reviews. Is the plot uninteresting or the style of writing?**

 **I'd really appreciate it if someone is willing to help me! Xoxoxo**


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